


Growing Darkness Taking Dawn

by IndefiniteHeaven



Series: Castaway Universe [2]
Category: Darkwing Duck (Cartoon 1991), DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Bisexual Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera, Blood and Injury, Gay Drake Mallard, Graphic Description, Himbo Launchpad McQuack, Implied/Referenced Torture, Let me know if I need to add any trigger warnings, M/M, Major Character Injury, Minor Injuries, Murder, Panic Attacks, Pansexual Launchpad, Past Drug Addiction, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, This story is going to be real dark, Trust me that’s important
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:00:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26866294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndefiniteHeaven/pseuds/IndefiniteHeaven
Summary: Drake Mallard knows better than anyone that he doesn’t live up to the Darkwing Duck namesake.Deep in his heart Launchpad knew he wouldn’t ever amount to anything.Gosalyn knew without a shadow of a doubt she would never be happy again.That doesn’t stop the world from showing them otherwise.
Relationships: Drake Mallard/Launchpad McQuack
Series: Castaway Universe [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1959994
Comments: 5
Kudos: 41





	1. Fade to Black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Cannot stand this hell I feel  
> Emptiness is filling me  
> To the point of agony  
> Growing darkness taking dawn  
> I was me but now, he's gone”
> 
> Fade to Black, Metallica 
> 
> Trigger Warnings: Blood, violent actions, murder, and in the final scene throwing up.

The blood gurgled from the cat’s slit throat, a wet wheeze being released with each breath that his lungs were filled. He could no longer speak, though he continued to attempt to do so. He was stuck on a broken track record, attempting to call for help that was never arriving. The light was slowly dying from his eyes and his soul was leaving his body. A webbed foot stomped onto the wound and he choked violently. The wild eyes of a masked duck swam in his vision and the roar of the chainsaw was visibly heard. He was terrified in his last moments before death, but at least he knew the end was finally near. 

“Nighty-night!” The duck above him cackled as he brought the weapon down, directly into his skull. There was a dense crunch and the cat went still immediately after. He laughed cruelly at the grotesque scene and yanked out the chainsaw from the bloody mess of his victim’s head. “Thata teach you to try mugging me!”

He turned his back from the corpse, heading deeper into the freezing alleyway. “Not like I had any money anyways...at least not yet.”

Negaduck’s unhinged laugh echoed around the enclosed space, his chainsaw glinting in the light of the moon.

  
*

The icy chill of winter had settled within his bones, sucking the warmth from his mouth with each breath. His gloved hands trembled from the cold, though he hardly acknowledged this. His cloak laid upon his shoulders, heavy with the weight of responsibility. It barely provided the comfort of the indoors that he should have, but it would do. Snow began to fall lightly upon his large brimmed hat. Though he could feel the chill down to his bones, he focused every ounce of his energy on his mission. His comfort wasn’t important, if it meant that others would be suffering.

“Sighted,” The duck mumbled into his microphone attached to the collar of his vest, while he continued to stare through his pair of binoculars were he sat rooftop. “Is it clear on your side?”

“Yep!” The wire buzzed to life immediately after his question. “There’s not any guards on my side. I think now is probably the best time to go in, DW.”

“Copy that. I’ll be down in a moment.” Darkwing Duck replied, attaching his binoculars back onto his belt. He slunk backwards into the shadows, feeling the night conceal him. He peeked over the edge of the roof, before climbing down the apartment’s ladder when he discerned it’s location. When the duck was at the half way point, he grabbed the window ledge near the ladder and pulled himself up, standing in the opening of the window. He hopped to the next window, then the next, and the next, continuing down the row until he arrived at the one on the end. He knocked on the empty apartment’s window and it opened a brief moment later. 

Launchpad McQuack peeked his head out and smiled at him, as Darkwing climbed inside. “Hey DW!”

The larger duck had returned to sitting in an creaky old chair, holding a Darkwing Duck comic in his lap, and his own pair binoculars in his hands. He distractedly replied, preparing himself for the fight to come. “Hi, LP. Is it still clear in the warehouse?”

“Yeah, the bad guys are definitely on their dinner break now. I saw them all sitting around playing cards and eating their hamburgers. It’s actually kinda making me hungry. You ready to go in?” 

“In just a moment,” The duck answered, walking across the room to retrieve the duffel bag lying on the floor. He dug around inside it, until he pulled out his trusty smoke gun. “Just have to bring this down with me.”

“Good thing Fenton was nice enough to have Dr. Gearloose make that for you!”

“Ugh,” The vilagante groaned at the words, distracted by the reminder. “I already said that we will never talk about this ever again!”

“And, why not again?” He asked, frowning at him. “You know, you kinda act like you don’t like him too much.”

“Because-“ Darkwing loaded each smoke capsule with a furious click as he gritted out his next words. “-Gizmoduck is just some wannabe hero. He thinks he knows what he’s doing, but he actually doesn’t! He doesn’t even have any professional training like me! I’ve spent years studying Darkwing’s personal fight style, being a stunt double, and mastering the art of taekwondo!”

“I think he went to karate classes, too...or maybe it was horseback riding? Or maybe it was for skydiving? I kinda don’t remember now. You know, he’s done a lot of things. Fenton is a pretty cool guy actually.”

Darkwing narrowed his eyes at the words and snarled. “Look, it doesn’t matter about him right now! This is about stopping this gang of robbers from committing their next heinous heist!” 

He attached the gun to his belt, wrapping his cloak tightly around himself. Launchpad frowned, before standing up to approach the smaller duck, with a tilted head. “Are you cold? You were out there for a long time.”

“I’m fine,” He answered stonily, adjusting his hat with trembling gloved hands. He was surprised when the larger duck reached out to grab his hands and rubbed them together with his own. Drake’s brain suddenly broke and he was no longer in his straight laced hero mode. “Uhhhhh....”

“Is that better? I know your hands get cold easy.”

His eyes widened as a blush rose to his cheeks. Launchpad stared at him tenderly, clasping his hands into a firmer grip. The look the pilot gave him at times was full of such affection, that Drake honestly didn’t know how to respond at times. He pulled his hands hastily away, attempting to shift back into the night mode he needed at that moment. He turned to the window quickly, sliding it open as he spoke. “I-I should get out there, before they return from their break.”

“Ok, have fun! I’ll jump in if you need me, but I’m going to Facetime Dewey to help with his school project. He needed to figure out how to make one of those cool exploding volcanos!” He didn’t sound hurt by the cold shoulder Darkwing had given him, which he was thankful for.

The superhero hopped out the window, trying to squash his feelings his other side presented, willing the blush that had bloomed on his cheeks away. He couldn’t focus on the pilot’s affection at the moment. He landed on both of his webbed feet, stumbling a bit, before straightening out. He still needed practice sticking the landing from the second story, but he was better at it than before.

He crept along in the shadows, heading towards the warehouse the criminals occupied. He cracked open the massive door, sliding inside silently, before gently clicking it back shit. He squatted behind a cargo box, keeping himself partially hidden in the shadows. Darkwing peered over the edge, spotting the robbers sitting around the table, playing UNO. Neither he, nor Launchpad, could see them in detail earlier, but now that he was close up he recognized them. It appeared to be a group of...Beagle Boys? What were they doing in St. Canard?

“Red!” The shorter dog of the group called out, slamming down a card, as the others groaned.

“Now, that ain’t just not fair!” The thin, tall one cried out.

“Yeah!” Agreed the larger, bulky one.

“That’s part of the game, you nicompoops!” The shorter one roared, the other two flinching away at his furious cry.

Darkwing rolled his eyes, having enough of this nonsense after only watching them for a mere minute. He reached out to his belt, to unclip one of his gas pellets that had been made by Dr. Gearloose. He tossed it out into the open space, a purple haze filling the air as it activated. One of the Beagle Boys screamed in horror, sounding as though he was a young girl. Another one bellowed out in alarm. “What’s that?!”

The vigilante hopped out over the cargo box, his figure hidden by the smoke floating heavy in the air. He reached his wing out, pulling his cloak into his grasp as he pressed it up to his bill to hide the lower half of his face. His voice, deeper than Drake Mallard’s, called out. “I am the terror that flaps in the night!”

“Whose there?!” Screamed a higher voice, fear evident in his tone.

“I am Jack Frost nipping at the bud of villiany’s nose.”

“The what?!” Another voice squeaked.

The smoke began to clear and suddenly the figure of the mysterious duck stood before them. The trio were clinging to one another, shaking in fright. If they weren’t villains, he would actually feel bad for them. They were however, so he flung his cape out behind him dramatically, finishing his famous catchphrase. “I am Darkwing Duck!”

They blinked sluggishly at him as a whole, their fear vanishing slowly from their eyes. The shortest one rolled his eyes, turning his back on the vigilante without a care. “Oh, you’re just that weirdo in the cape.”

“Yeah,” The largest one pitched in and pointed at him. “You’re just that nerd that’s always following around the cops.”

“Could some nerd do this!?” He answered harshly, feeling anger rise from the disrespect to his persona. The duck grabbed the shortest one by the forearm, and flipped him over his shoulder. He laid his knee on the winded dog’s chest, holding him down. The shortest one wheezed in the obvious pain by being slammed so suddenly into the floor. 

The other dogs shouted at him and charged in his direction suddenly. The vigilante hopped up, whirling around to duck down in between the largest one’s legs as he barreled towards him. He was left confused, as Darkwing lunged underneath, and across the floor. He was standing in an instant, throwing the first punch at the thinnest dog, who wasn’t prepared for the assault. He went down like a rock and didn’t move after the fall. “Really? It was that easy to knock you out?”

“Hey!” He turned around, to see the larger dog pointing a meaty finger in his direction. “You’re going down!”

Darkwing knew it wouldn’t be as easy to take down the larger one and firmly stood his ground. He would have the advantage if he was approached first in this instance. The dog charged at him, swinging a fist wildly. Darkwing grabbed the fist with both of his own, webbed feet scrambling across the ground as he slid backwards from the force of it. A smarter villain would have thrown another punch by this point, instead of staring at him in surprise that he could catch his fist. Darkwing wouldn’t call any of the Beagle Boys smart though, so he took advantage of the distraction, planning his next action of attack.

Instead the duck was abruptly jabbed on the back of the knees by the shorter dog that had recovered at some point. His legs buckled and the fist was ground further into his hands as he fell down onto his back. The larger dog moved to grip his wrist, before Darkwing able capable of recovery, and was flung through the air into a pile of cargo boxes. They cracked and broke underneath his weight and he groaned. He stood a moment later, legs shaking as he ignored the dull, throbbing pain in his body. The two dogs were approaching him, the shorter one laughing menacingly. “You’re going to pay for what you did now!”

The duck put his fists up, feeling dizzy. “B-Bring it on!”

The larger dog cracked his knuckles, before decking him directly across the bill with the force of a tank. Darkwing fell back over instantly, the taste of blood bright in his mouth. Stars floated in his vision and he went to stand back up with the little strength he had left. The shorter one hopped on top of him though and his breath left him. “Get off of him!”

Launchpad had arrived to the fight, just as promised, plowing over the shorter dog who went down like he weighted nothing. Darkwing laid there in a daze, watching Launchpad save him. The bigger duck stood, having knocked out the shorter Beagle Boy, wiping his bangs out of his face. The largest dog looked furious at the intrusion. “YOU KNOCKED MY BROTHER OUT!”

A fist was swung at the larger duck and he was unable to block it in time. Launchpad staggered back, before spiting out a blob of blood. He stared at the taint across the floor for a long moment, before smiling at the dog. Darkwing knew that look and relaxed when he knew the fight was about to end. The pilot threw a fist straight back at the Beagle Boy. He roared in return, before tackling Launchpad. Darkwing watched the pair grapple and felt affection well in his chest. Drake Mallard hadn’t felt as much admiration as he did in that moment in his life. There were few animals in this world that would fight with such vigor for his safety.

Launchpad suddenly tossed the larger dog over his shoulder-the perfect Heimlich maneuver-finally rendering him unconscious. The pilot panted, wiping his bangs out of his eyes once more. Darkwing distantly thought about giving him a haircut soon. Launchpad had a thin layer of sweat beading upon his forehead. He breathed shakily as he fell to one knee for in front of Darkwing. “Whew! That took longer than I thought it would!”

Darkwing watched his broad shoulders rising and falling, head pounding at the sight. “Are you ok, DW? You look kinda pale.”

“I think...might have a concussion...but other than that...I am...is...fine.” He responded, using an unbroken cargo box to push himself up on unsteady feet. 

“You’re not going to pass out are you? I hate it when you do that and I don’t want to see you doing that, again.” The pilot was reaching out to steady him by the shoulders.

“No, no, justice....sleeps! No...never does...I’m fine! Just need to get...to that place I sleep...” His words had slurred at the end of his sentence.

“Ok, but I’m driving!”

“Yes, sure, sure. I need to call the...wee-whoos?” He couldn’t quite recall the proper words to use and he was feeling exhaustion overtake him.

Launchpad’s eyebrows furrowed and he reached out a hand to rest upon his shoulder. “Are you sure you can call the...’wee whoos’? Your words are starting to sound kinda funny.”

“I-I can! Let’s just go get our stuff from the building and go to...the sleepy-bye place now...”

Launchpad looked mildly concerned. “I think maybe you should go to the Ratcatcher. I’ll grab the stuff and meet you back there.

Darkwing stumbled forward as he replied and they headed out of the warehouse. “Yeah...I’ll just go...to the Sat Masher...”

Launchpad smiled slightly at his words, pushing him forward gently. “Yeah, you go to the Sat Masher, and I’ll be right there!”  
*

“DW? Do you need help getting out? We’re back at the bridge.”

Darkwing blinked himself out of a dazed state, shaking his head. He must have briefly dozed off, because he couldn’t recall the trip back. Or it could be the possible concussion making him zone out. He started to blearily climb out of the side car of the motorcycle. He tore off his helmet, feeling sweaty underneath it. “I’m fine, Launchpad, just kinda tired.”

“Didn’t you say you have a concussion?”

“That was a speculation, but I’m sure I’m fine or I would have showed other signs by now. I think I’m just dizzy from the blow, because this isn’t how a concussion is.” He answered, heading towards the staircase that led up to the apartment. He was beginning to few much better, though his body trembled from exhaustion. 

“Hey DW? Are you still in Darkwing mode?” Launchpad had always understood Drake’s one track mind, how when he shifted into vigilante mode he turned into a different person entirely it seemed.

“Uh, yeah, a little. Just thinking about why the Beagle Boys were here in St....Canard...and-and...” His brain came to a halt as he felt Launchpad’s wings wrap around his waist from behind. “...a-and, uh, I’m not so good at just...turning it off.”

“I know that. But, I really want to kiss you right now.” He replied, voice sounding husky.

Drake felt his cheeks burning at the words, enjoying the warmth returning to him. He turned around, Launchpad’s wings continuing to be wrapped around him. He stared at his boyfriend, seeing the need to act upon his request in Launchpad’s eyes. The smaller duck found himself feeling strangely brave, though visibly flustered. “...uhhh, if you...if you would like to kiss m-me...that would be alright...”

Launchpad pressed his bill to his at the words and Drake sighed into it. It was warm, comforting, everything he loved in a kiss. He could feel himself returning, shedding the other side he occupied typically at this point in the night. The pilot’s hands tugged him closer into a tight embrace, squeezing gently. Drake found himself feeling the dizziness return instantly. “Ugh, s-stop, please...ugh, my head hurts.”

Launchpad pulled his face away, though he still clung tightly to the other. He seemed content with what he had, despite the fact the making out session was interrupted, as per usual. Drake usually didn’t like to kiss as long as his boyfriend always wanted to. He tried not to think about how unfair that was on his part, as the pilot spoke sweetly to him. “Let’s get you to bed. You need cuddles to warm you up.”

They had begun sleeping next to one another when it became obvious that Drake was having a difficult time sleeping at night. His brain had always been like a live wire, constantly going without end. He typically only slept four hours a night, his body refusing to allow him to do more. That had always been normal for him, but Launchpad worried for him and insisted on trying to help. He allowed his boyfriend to help him climb the staircase, following along as the pilot unlock the door, the pair heading inside. By the time Drake had prepared for bed, his eyelid were dropping, his body clearly in need of rest. 

The cuddles definitely did help him feel warmer, and he could always feeling himself drifting off faster everytime he felt Launchpad’s thick chest and soft belly pressed up against him from behind. With each soft snooze in his ear and warm breath against his neck, Drake could feel himself grow sleepy. Finally, sleep overtook him, allowing himself to join Launchpad into an unsettled doze.

*  


“I...don’t want to be this...” The duck was weeping messily, voice a raspy whisper. Snow gently drifted from the sky, a gray hue now overcasting the alleyway.The blood on his hands was dripping onto the cold cement below. The lights of a car driving down the road nearby bounced wildly across his figure. His eyes were wide, pupils a pinprick in the shock that had enclosed itself around him. A constant buzzing was heard from the stoplight in the intersection a few feet away. A few splatters of blood tarnished the feathers across his face, as though someone had painted an unhinged picture. His voice croaked as he screamed out violently. “I DON’T WANT TO BE THIS!”

The cape was wrapped heavily around his shoulders, weighing him down with an immense guilt. His hat had fallen onto the ground, red color deepening as it absorbed the puddle leftover from the dead animal beside him. His trenchcoat was soaked through, barely a patch of yellow visible to the eye now. He felt sweaty, as though he had run a marathon, and he had in fact. He had chased after the cat and ended their life with a fit of hysterical laughter over the opportunity to kill. The chainsaw had been long since tossed to the side, blade no longer buzzing. He hadn’t been able to stop himself.

He bent over upon his hands and knees to release the contents of his stomach at the knowledge of what he had done. It mixed with the blood, making him clear out his stomach once more at the sight before him. He allowed the spittle to drip from his bill, afraid to wipe away the sick and smear more blood across his face. He whimpered and he turned to the chainsaw lying beside him. “Oh, God, what have I done? Why did I do this? I’m a monster, oh, God, I’m a monster!”

He saw his reflection in the very weapon he had struck with, finding his face to be haunted, showing his sickening sin to the world. He didn’t deserve to live.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While it isn’t necessarily needed prior to reading this story, it’s recommended to know about my story set in the same universe, Castaway to fully understand all of the details to Growing Darkness Taking Dawn. This is going to be an origin story on how Gosalyn and Darkwing met, but will include flashbacks of earlier times as well. For those that are invested in Castaway, this will be a nice complimentary to the main storyline. Thank you for all of your support and I truly hope you enjoy this fic!


	2. The Day That Never Comes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “God I'll make them pay  
> Take it back one day  
> I'll end this day  
> I'll splatter color on this grave”
> 
> The Day That Never Comes, Metallica

Drake felt himself jolt awake, heaving as though he was having a difficult time breathing. His dreams were muddled, memories, meshing with his fears. He stared at the ceiling, trying fruitlessly to get the sound of ringing laughter out of his head. He was sweaty, warm, hot from his panic. It felt as though he were back in the burning studio. He knew he wasn’t though. The heavy weight of Launchpad’s arm and leg thrown over him were a reminder that this was were he currently was. He was too hot though.

He pushed the limbs off and his boyfriend only snorted sleepily in response. He sat at the edge of the bed, shivering despite how overheated he felt. He needed cool air pronto. And the fastest way would be the wind blowing through his feathers. Drake headed to his closest, popping it open with a click noise. He pushed aside the clothes hanging on the rack, hand pressing firmly to the back wall until he heard a hollow noise. A door pushed firmly into his hand as it opened, revealing his suit. He pulled on his suit wearily, body exhausted from the mere amount of sleep he had. They returned shortly before sunset and now the light peering in through a nearby window told him it was likely noon by this point.

Drake sniffled, pulling on his suit as best as he could. His webbed feet became tangled as he wrapped his cape around himself however, and face planted despite his attempts to prevent that. He laid on the ground groaning for a long moment. Though he was talented in his fighting, his every day coordination was lackluster. He seemed to always been stumbling and smashing and snatching bits of himself on whatever was around. It had been a constant in his life, but he was hardly ever used to it. 

He pushed himself up, glaring at the ceiling. “Some hero I am, huh?” 

By the time he had gone to the garage to fetch his motorcycle, he was much more awake than earlier. Still just as sweaty though. He started up the bike, before plowing froward out of the tower with no hesitation. One would think he would have crashed it by this point, but whatever clumsiness he had in his everyday life, didn’t seem to extend to his motorcycle luckily. He sped down the bridge with a revving of the engine. Only one driver honked at him, which was a definite improvement compared to a year ago. 

He allowed the cool air to ruffle his feathers as he blazed down the road, weaving in and out of traffic with ease. He felt better, much better being out with the fresh air. The tension and anxiety he held in his body drain slowly from his body. He felt more of himself, less of a stranger stuck in a sticky body. As long as he didn’t stare too hard at his reflection in the side mirror he would be completely fine. He just had to ignore the itchy feeling to do so, otherwise he would begin to see the flames licking across his skin, feel the-there was someone standing in the middle of the road.

He yelped at the sight and swerved off to the left, towards an alleyway. The motorbike instead flipped over and Drake immediately let go. He wrapped his cape around his body, allowing the shield technology inside to protect him as best as he could, sliding across the ground. His face unfortunately wasn’t protected however and his bill scraped painfully upon the asphalt. He came to a standstill and a spilt second later, his bike came slamming at full force from behind. It hit the street in front of him, bounced, and hit the ground again before to stopped. There was a thud sound as duck’s body jolted forward about a foot or so. His cape did it’s job well as it could, which meant preventing any broken bones, but he was definitely going to be bruised from this encounter. 

Drake groaned, feeling a dull throb across his body, and rolled out onto his back. The sun blinded him and someone was suddenly blocking the light by standing over him. His eyes took a moment to focus, in order to realize a teenager was hovering above him. The sun made a rainbow hued halo of light behind her. Her red hair, pulled tight into a ponytail, was bouncing as she spoke. She was concerned, that much was evident, but he couldn’t hear her over the ringing in his ears. There was the distant sound of a siren, far off, and then he heard her sweet voice. “-dude, are you alright?! Is anything broken?! You’re freaking me the hell out with you just staring at me!” 

“I’m perfectly peachy,” He breathed, feeling as though he had run a marathon. “Are you...are you alright? I thought I saw you standing at the curb a moment ago.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I was until I moved out of the way your motorcycle from straight up killing me.”

He flushed as he realized how strange his own question had been. “Oh, right, sorry about that, um...”

Another dog was hovering over his face now, equally as worried as the young duck beside him had been. “Mister, how many finger am I holding up?” 

“Three, I’m fine,” Darkwing pushed the hand out of his face and sat up. A few cars surrounded him, with some animals remaining in their vehicles, while others were approaching him with terrified expressions. He sighed, knowing he wasn’t as injured as his bike was. “I don’t actually need an ambulance.” 

“You literally just flipped your motorcycle over two different times!” The dog protested with a doubtful look.

The vigilante pointed at his cape. “I luckily have tech in this that protects me like a shield. Nothing is broken, other than my bike, and my probably my ego.”

He wasn’t certain who asked, but he heard someone a distance away ask a question. “Is that Gizmoduck?” 

Darkwing narrowed his eyes and snarled. “No, I’m not Gizmoduck! For your information, I’m Darkwing Duck, the terror that flaps in the night, the-wait, where did that girl go?”

The teenager, the red headed duck, had completely disappeared without a trace. Of course she did. Though it wasn’t quite a hit and run situation, he felt as though it were. Especially considered his motorbike being in shambles. It turns out his seat had been what hit him, while the body of the bike had flown directly over him. He ran his hands over the broken wreckage, knowing it would take Launchpad at least a week to fix by this point. He pressed the button on his comlink, allowing it to ring. After a long moment, the sleepy voice of Launchpad was heard. “Drake? What’s...where’d you go?”

“I went for a morning-er, noon-drive and uh...” He shouldn’t tell him about the accident, it would only make him worry, and Drake wasn’t hurt. “...I went to run to...a coffee shop..? I, uh, came back to find the Ratcatcher completely destroyed!” 

That definitely woke up his boyfriend quick. “What?! What happened to it? Did a car hit it? Did someone do that?”

“Never mind that, LP. I just need a ride back to the tower, please. The bike is mostly intact, it’s just hammered to high heaven!” Though the other animals had finally backed off, the sounds of sirens seemed to be around the corner now. “Could you hurry, too? Uh, somebody called the cops when they saw what happened.” 

“Ah, shoot! I’ll be there quick, Drake! Let me just-“ There was a thud, a loud clattering, and a shatter loud enough that made the other duck jolt in surprise. 

“Uh, LP, you alright?”

“I’m fine! Just...um, I think we have to buy a new mug is all. Accidentally knocked over the one on the nightstand when I fell outta bed. I’ll be there in a second!” He hung up after the words, leaving Drake alone to drag the motorcycle towards the alleyway to hide it as best as he could. He had to take precautions for when the police would surely arrive. 

By the time he had gone past the dumpster sitting about half way down the alley, he was huffing, and puffing from the the strain. Honestly, the effort to move it was much more of a pain, than the accident in itself. He slumped over the the broken remains of the handlebar, staring at the cracked left side mirror with a groan. “I really outta start wearing a helmet. Look at this mess...” 

He had a black eye and his bill was scraped and scratched, pieces of gravel rubbed into it, blood dripping at an alarming rate. The adrenaline must have been pumping through his veins still, as he could hardly feel any of it. Not again! “Crap, how am I gonna explain this to Launchpad? And where’s my hat?”

“Are you looking for this?” Sang out a voice smugly and he saw through the reflection that the red headed teenager from earlier was leaning up against the alley wall behind him, waving his missing hat in his direction. “You know, you really outta take better care of your shit?” 

Darkwing whirled around and the smug look dropped from her face when she saw his injuries. He had about ready to berate her for the language, but the a wiggling notion of something else weighted more heavily on his mind. “Was it you in the road? I thought I saw you on the curb, but then someone was suddenly in the street...”

Her guilty expression vanished instantly and her face went shuttered. “Well, maybe you shouldn’t be daydreaming when you’re driving instead of actually paying attention to the road? Your eyes were literally closed when you went through the intersection you know!”

“I did not! And, this about you deciding to stand in the road. Please explain why you were irresponsibly crossing into traffic. Also, I would appreciate if you give me that back!”

Darkwing lunged forward for his tattered hat and she side stepped him, darting away from his grabbing hands. “You know, it’s really not any of your business is it? And, as a pedestrian I have the right of way, so whose the one to blame in this situation?”

“The little girl foolishly flitting through traffic! And as a guardian of St. Canard, I have a right to make certain that all citizens are being as safe as possible!”

“I’m not a little girl!” She growled at him, stomping her webbed foot. The young duck’s brief bout of anger was enough to allow her to be distracted. Drake successfully snatched his purple hat back from her. “Hey!”

“You shouldn’t steal other’s property, it’s morally wrong. And, stop playing in traffic. You’re going to end up hurt!” He sternly told her, throwing on his hat as he returned to the Ratcatcher. He began to attempt reattaching his side mirror that he had picked up earlier. He stared at the crumbled thing, the shattered remains showing hues of purple spreading on his bill. He could begin to feel a dull throb in his face that he steadily ignored. 

She was holding the end of his cape in one hand, eyeing it. “What’s up with this stupid ass get up?”

“Watch your language! And, please don’t touch the cape,” He pried it away, returning to his attempts to reattach the side mirror. “If you must know, I am wearing this uniform, because I am Darkwing Duck, the protector of justice in St. Canard.”

“I thought that was Gizmoduck’s job?”

Darkwing shut his eyes, inhaling deeply. It wouldn’t do loosing his temper with someone so young and impressionable. “I suppose one would consider him a protector as well. I pick up the slack however, since there’s quite of a bit of city to patrol.”

“How come I never heard of you before then?” She tapped her foot, looking suspicious.

“Look, aren’t you supposed to be in school? It’s 1:00 on a Tuesday.”

“It’s literally winter break, dude. I don’t know if they had such a thing eighty years ago when you went to school, but that’s what we do nowadays.”

“I did not go to school eighty years ago, I’ll have you know!”

“So, like 100 years ago then? Because, you definitely have to be old enough to be a baby boomer. Look at all those wrinkles around your eyes!”

He craned his neck back to roll his eyes at her. “I’m a millennial.”

“Oh yeah, you’re definitely a million years old then. Hey, wanna know something that’s really gonna mess you up?”

“I don’t know what else other than a car accident could mess me up even more.”

Her eyes flashed a few different expressions and her face twisted once more. “No, I was just gonna say 1990 is as far away as 2050 is.”

He laid his head onto one of the handle bars with a loud groan. “Why did you have to tell me that?”

“Because you looked like enough of a loser that it would bother you as much as it obviously is right now.”

Darkwing had never been as annoyed at a teenager as he was at the moment. She nearly killed him, but now she was treating the situation like it had never occurred. “Why can’t you just go off your merry way and stop bothering me!“

“DW?! DW, where are ya?!” Echoed his boyfriend’s voice from the entrance of the alleyway, stepping in with a concerned expression.

“Woah, that guy has total himbo vibes.” 

He steadily ignored that and waved at the pilot. “I’m over here, LP!”

“I don’t know who your friend is, but he’s gonna flip his shit when he sees your face.”

“Oh, shoot!” She was right and he didn’t know what he was going to do. Launchpad was going to start panicking if he saw how bad the injury on his face was becoming. He could feel the pulsing pain beginning to take hold of him. “I need to cover up!”

“I’ll give you my jacket if you give me twenty.”

“I’m not gonna give you that much for your jacket!”

“Not unless you want that big guy to start yelling his head off at you.”

He looked back and forth between the two, knowing he had little options. He threw a twenty dollar bill in her general direction. “Give it to me!” 

“Nah, I think I’m just gonna see how this all plays out.” She laughed, pocketing the money.

Darkwing stared at her with wide eyes. “You’re seriously just going to allow this to happen?! What did I ever do to you to warrant a near death experience and have my best friend panic over-“

“DW, there you are! I was looking all over the place for ya? Ummm...why are you pulling your cape around you like that?”

His heart was pounding loudly, having immediately thrown his cape in front of bill the moment Launchpad was close enough to see him. He laughed nervously, a high pitched sound. “Oh, no reason! Just, uh, showing this little girl how amazing this cape is!”

“I’m 15-years-old, you asshole.” 

His eyes widened and he side glanced at her. “Fifteen? I don’t believe you for a moment! You look like you’re eleven!”

“Excuse you?!”

“Whose your friend there, DW?”

“I already think he’s a lot nicer than you. He actually asked me my name, instead of just yelling at me the moment that he decided to actually speak to me,” She told the vigilante. She turned back to the pilot, presenting him a peace sign as a greeting. “Hey, I’m Gosalyn.”

“Oh, cool! I’m Launch-“ Darkwing kicked him roughly. “-LP!”

“You’re Launch-LP?”

“Um, it’s a family name,” He said, shooting finger guns at her. Darkwing would have facepalmed, if he wasn’t using his hands to hide his face with the cape. “What’re you doing here with DW? Was she the one that saw what happen to the Ratcatcher?”

“Oh, I definitely saw what happened alright.”

“For the love of-Look, Gosalyn, I’m sure your parents are missing you very much right now, and I believe it to be in your best interest to go home.” He didn’t want to deal with this any longer. She had been nothing but a thorn in his side every since she stepped directly into the path of his motorbike.

“I would go home, if I actually had one,” Her eyes watered up and her voice came out meek. “I’m an orphan you know.”

Darkwing couldn’t help the gasp the spilled from his bill, his cape dropping from his face in shock at the words. She was an orphan? She was like-“Oh my god, DW, what’s wrong with your face?!”

Gosalyn’s tears had disappeared in an instant and she laughed at him. “Ha! I can’t believe you actually fell for that! You should see the look on your face!”

He had paled and went to quickly cover up his increasingly painful injured face. The pilot was already wrestling away his arm with gentle ease though, and the vigilante didn’t fight it in the least. Launchpad reached out to prod at the bill, his fingers coming away bloody. Darkwing had flinched at the feeling, the normally loving touch hurting him. Launchpad looked aghast, his hands trembling in concern. “D-DW, what happened...?”

“...I accidentally flipped over the Ratcatcher...” He mumbled in admittance, step aside to allow Launchpad to see the wreackage behind him.

Instead of even turning his attention to the motorbike however, the pilot cupped his boyfriend’s face tenderly. Drake immediately felt a flush rise high on cheeks. Launchpad shifted the hero’s face from side to side with a frown. “Please tell me if you’re hurt anywhere else. This looks really bad! Your bill is completely-“

Drake pulled his face away. “I used my cape to protect to my body. And my bill is going to be fine. This isn’t the first or last time this has happened.”

“Yeah, but’s it’s the first time it happened when you can’t take any-“ Launchpad cut himself off, eyes flickering to the young duck beside the motorbike. 

Darkwing jolted, having forgotten her to be there in the first place. He glanced over at her, finding her to be staring at her fingernails in apparent disinterest. He could see a highbrow tension in her shoulders however, showing him that she was anxious for whatever reason. It would be a ploy though, just like the tears earlier had been. He sternly approached her, trying on his best adult face he could muster. “Gosalyn, if you just go home right now, I won’t need to report this incident to the police.”

“It’s not my fault you weren’t watching were you were going!” She yelled at him. Launchpad gave her a bewildered look, obviously confused by the context of the situation. “You’re the one that was trying to run me down, you dick!”

“Um, DW, what’s she talking about?”

“She was standing in the middle of the road in a forty five zone! I totaled the Ratcatcher just to make sure I didn’t hit her!” Drake gestured a hand at her. “And you still won’t explain why you were just standing there in the first place!”

“Maybe because it isn’t any of your damn business!”

“It is when you nearly kill me!”

“DW,” Launchpad rested his hands onto Darkwing’s shoulder. “I don’t think she meant any harm. Besides, she’s only ten, and I don’t think a lot of 10-year-olds mean to do anything bad.”

“I’m fifteen, you bastard!” She lunged forward and out of instinct Drake moved away from her path. She collided with Launchpad, throwing her fists rapidly at his stomach with a cry of fury. 

He looked down at her, blinking slowly at the small impacts. Drake rolled his eyes at the situation, hissing at her. “Would you stop that! You’re obviously doing no damage to him! He’s literally triple your size!”

Gosalyn ceased her pounding and glowered at him. Launchpad reached down, resting his hands gently on her shoulders. His voice was soft. “I’m sorry I got your age wrong, but there’s really no need to yell and hit me. I think you need to take a chill pill there, Gosalyn.”

She pulled away from him, face stony. “I’m leaving! I’m leaving right now and you better not follow me, creep!”

The young duck stomped away, while Darkwing followed after to her down the alleyway. This was the last straw. He had definitely lost his patience. “I’m not a creep! I am a superhero! I am the terror the flaps in the night! I am the bubblegum that sticks of the sidewalk of justice! I am-!”

“-a loser! You’re a loser that has nothing better to no that harass underage girls! I bet you get your kicks off of that, don’t you?!”

“What?! I-that’s-no! I would never-! That’s absolutely disgusting!” He sputtered loudly, stepping away from the furious teenager.

“Then leave me alone! I’m going to walk out this alley and you’re not going to follow me or I’m going to get the cops out there to come arrest you for assault!”

“Assault?! I would never-!”

“DW, you outta leave her alone, I think she’s serious.” Launchpad whispered to him, hovering directly behind.

His bill snapped shut and he stepped away from her path. He didn’t mean to harass Gosayln, he just got worked up as he often did it situations such as these. He realized how immature he was being at the moment. He turned away, allowing her to leave quickly, her face peeking over her face a handful of times in distrust. A moment later she disappeared back onto the street, leave the pair alone. “...crap, I’m sorry Launchpad...I just got so worked up and...ugh...”

“I know you didn’t mean to, Drake,” He frowned, staring in the direction she had left. “Why do you think she stuck around so long?”

“I don’t Launchpad and honestly I hope she’s gone off to annoy her parents instead of some other hero like me. I was really worried I was about to run her over. She’s lucky I noticed her in time.” He pinched at the tear ducts of his eyes, having his lids shut, realizing the light was hurting him.

“You know, you’re kinda being sort grouchy.”

“I’m not being grouchy!” He growled at his boyfriend, before pausing. “...ok, I am right now...I just wasn’t expecting to have to deal with this and...ugh, usually I’m much better with children than this, and here I was yelling at one for getting on my nerves.”

“I think you were entitled, after all she did make the Ratcatcher crash...are you sure you’re alright? Your bill looks pretty bad. Do we need to go to the hospital? I really think you outta do something about the bleeding.”

“No, I’m just going to patch it up at home. A hospital is too much work to deal with right now.”

“You have a headache? You keep rubbing your eyes. Here,” He reached out, rubbing at his temples with a small amount of pressure. Drake felt himself relax a fraction, the pressure soothing. “That better?”

“Yeah...that feels really nice...” His eyelids fluttered and he glanced up at the pilot in front of him. He wasn’t even looking at Drake though, staring at the exit of the alley with furrowed eyebrows. “Launchpad, are you alright?”

“...do you think she’s going to be ok? I think you really scared her and she was getting super defensive and it kinda reminded me of...”

Drake pressed his own hands up against the ones holding him. “Of what?”

He finally looked back down at his boyfriend. “Of you.”

*

When Gosalyn Waddlemeyer had first arrived at the orphanage three years ago, she had only been a traumatized child, having just witness the murder of her grandfather. Usually the most talkactive and happy duck around, she had gone silent, the shock firmly taken hold of her. Not only had it taken her months to even begin to comprehend her grandfather was no longer alive, the gruesome act in itself weighted heavy on her mind, she had also suffered several sleepless nights since then. After all, how many other 12-year-olds had one of their loved ones die before their eyes? 

At the age of 15-years-old however, Gosalyn felt as though she had changed into a fully grown adult. She had gotten used to no longer have a guardian in her life or someone to point her into he right direction. She truly wasn’t an adult by legal means, but as one of the older ones at the orphanage, she felt as though she could do well on her own. If anyone were ask her, she would definitely identify herself as one.

Much to her dismay, the young duck was quickly fostered. But, she never lasted long in foster homes, as she truly did her best to make herself as much as an nuisance as possible. Being cheeky at every turn, breaking things, even going as far as running away. By the end of the week, the family would be so sick of her that she would be returned. She had been through thirty three foster homes in the past two years alone and every single one of them had given up on her.

Unfortunately, that always meant the case worker was furious at her. The latest, in a long three years, had been when she hit the baseball through the Johnson’s window, shattering it, along with the expensive TV inside. That in its self could have been construed as an accident, if it wasn’t for Gosalyn previously breaking six other windows in their house. “Gosalyn! Do you want to live here until you’re eighteen?! You need to actually behave when foster parents bring you in!” 

“I don’t want to have to live here anymore and I don’t want to deal with those assholes that are trying to act like my ‘mommy and daddy’!” She had made herself sound like a toddler at the end of her sentence, mocking the would-be parents.

“Gosalyn Waddlemeyer, watch your language! And, you have to allow yourself to fostered if you don’t want to be stuck here until then!”

“Not if I run away from here!”

“Gosalyn, you should know after you tried the first four times, that you will always be returned here,” The case worker huffed at her from across the desk she sat at. “You are a ward of the state until you are either legally an adult in three years or have been fostered and or adopted.”

The teenager crossed her arms, slouching in her seat. “This is the stupidest shit I’ve ever heard.”

“Gosalyn, what did I just say about the cursing?”

“I don’t care what the hell you say!”

The case worker had hopped to her feet, pointing at the doorway as she yelled. “Go back to your room now!”

“You can’t tell me what to do!” Gosalyn had stood as well, a challenging glare in her eyes. Go ahead, hit me with your best shot her body language seemed to shout. She was ready for a fight!

Except the case worker had come around the desk to stand beside her instead of continuing what the young duck started. “Gosalyn, I know what you are planning. I am not going to fight you. I am literally twice your age and this is absurd.”

“Fine!” Her hands were balled into tight fists by her side. “I’m going to my room then!”

She didn’t realize until she had flipped over onto her bed that she had done exactly what the woman wanted. “SON OF A BITCH!”  
*

Time continued to crawl forward, the same every single day for the bustling city of St. Canard, before change finally arrived one startling morning.

“Taurus Bulba, Crime Lord of the Underworld, released from jail after fourteen years behind bars.” The headlines screamed in bold letters as she rollerbladed down the street. Gosalyn had nearly toppled over at the words and barley caught herself when she reached out to grab a lightpole, to halt her body with a jerk. She couldn’t believe her eyes. There was no way! He couldn’t possibly be- She returned to the newspaper stand and snatched one up to read. Her heart was beating wildly and her face was beginning to grow hot. After fully registering the meaning of the headlines, she crinkled it in her hands, feeling a deep rage grow in her heart. “‘GOOD BEHAVIOR’, MY ASS!”

“Are you going to buy that or not?” The older mouse at the stand asked, clearly not impressed by her cursing.

The young duck threw a few dollars at him for the newspaper and rollerbladed off, ignoring his yells at her not to throw money at him. She carelessly swerved around a wastebasket and made an immediate left down the street. Gosalyn kept going down the sidewalk for nearly twenty minutes, until she arrived at the ledge on the cliff that overlooked the the city’s famous Audubon Bridge. She plopped down of the rock she liked to sit at when she visited this spot, before opening the newspaper to finish the article that been released yesterday. 

The young duck growled every few minutes, before she tore the mugshot it presented of the bull in half. She seethed, speaking to herself with a dark look in her eyes. “I will find that bastard! I promise I’ll make him pay for what he did to you, no matter what it costs me!”

Gosalyn was no longer her grandfather’s Little Girl Blue.

*

The young duck hopped onto the city bus, sliding in the two dollar bills to the coin slot, avoiding eye contact with the driver that puffed on his cigarette. The bus sped down the road, heading further into the metropolitan that was beginning to awaken for the day. Traffic zoomed by, her gaze watching intently for who she was searching for. Her eyes jumped back to the figure sitting near the opening of an alley and she pulled the line to make the bus stop. The vehicle pulled up to the curb and she mumbled a ‘thank you’ to the driver as she got out, pushing past the few animals trying to get on as she did so. She walked down the sidewalk, before approaching the dirty dog sitting on the ground in the light dusting of snow. “Hey, Tony.”

“Gosalyn,” Tony grinned, missing front tooth being shown. His hoodie was faded, patchy holes seen and he sat upon a blanket to protect him from the chill the sidewalk presented. “Good to see ya, kid. How’s it going? Hockey career still going strong?”

“Of course. I made the winning shot last Friday, though nobody really gave a shit.”

“Oh, they’re just jealous that you’re a damn good shot, and they’re not. To hell with them,” He waved a hand in her direction and she squatted down next to him. “You needed something? I don’t see you too often over here. Glad it’s not at night like last time though.”

“That was just, uhhh, an accident, yeah. That’s not going to happen again anytime soon. I just had a few questions for you though.”

He continued to smile at her, raising up an open hand. She rolled her eyes, before taking her hands out of her coat to give him a dollar bill. “What can I help you with, kid?”

“Taurus Bulba.” 

The dog’s eyes bulged out his head and his mouth gasped open. “What the hell do you need with that sick bastard? And how do you even know that name? He was running the streets before you was even born.”

“Yeah, but I also know he still does from behind bars. Well, at least until this morning,” She ground her teeth painfully. “It doesn’t matter how I know him. I’m not stupid, I hear a lot of things about the criminals that run this city in the background.”

“Kid, get outta here. I’m not helping you with any of that shit. And I would be careful who you’re asking, you might end up in a world of trouble.” He seemed unsettled, glancing around anxiously.

“Why are you looking around like that?”

The dog hissed in a whisper. “There are always loyal followers to a notorious mobster.”

“Then, that just gives me more people to ask. I can always bring my business else where.”

“Look, Gosalyn, I’m serious. You’re only a kid and people will not hestitate to end you if they hear you saying things. I’m not talking about C class villians like the Beagle Boys. These are people that will not hesitate to shot you square in the head and not feel a damn thing about it at all!”

Her gaze darkened, voice low. “Oh, I know that. I doubt they would want to kill me though, once they know I have information that Bulba would be interested in.”

“No, you’re gonna get the hell outta here. I’m done being nice so leave or I’m going to make you.” Tony threatened, eyes narrowed.

Gosalyn crossed her arms. “You either have to make me or just give me the information I need, because if you don’t, I will find someone else.”

“You would get yourself killed! You’re lucky you didn’t ask anyone else first, otherwise you would have been in heap of trouble!” He glanced around once more. After a moment there was a sigh, face resigned to his fate. “Come closer, kid.”

“What?”

Tony’s voice was whispering low enough that she had to strain to hear. “You’re lucky that I don’t want you to get hurt...I’ll tell you a little...He has eyes and ears everywhere and even though everybody thought putting him in jail would change anything, it didn’t. Bulba has been pulling all the strings for years and he could get out anytime he wanted.”

“Why did he wait so long to get out then? That’s a really long time to just be twiddling your thumbs.”

“Rumor has it a few years back he was going to make his return, but then he ended up not for whatever reason.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t really know. I heard he had plans for something big, but they didn’t go the way he wanted them to, so he decided to hide out longer.”

“Well, why now? What’s changed that’s made him want to come back?”

“I have no idea, but I know someone that might have an answer. They’re a good friend and don’t hurt kids-usually-so you should be safe. Just make sure you tell him I sent you or you might end up in trouble. You know where McDee’s is? That swanky bar McDuck owns?”

“Yeah, it’s on 49th.”

“Ok, go in there, and ask for a Julius. If they act like they don’t know him, mention my name. You’ll be brought downstairs to him. Don’t act scared or nuthin’ when you see him. He doesn’t look too good, after he had an... accident awhile back. He doesn’t like people talking about his injury. He gets pretty mad otherwise.”

“And he knows why Bulba is back?”

“Oh, he definitely will. He has a personal vendetta against the man. He would do anything to...get rid of him,” He glanced around the pair, licking his lips. “You should go. People are going to notice that you’re hanging out with me and that’s not something neither of us want.”

She pressed a crisp twenty dollar bill into his hand and he smiled gratefully at her money. “Thanks, Tony.”

Gosalyn nodded at him, leaving the homeless dog behind. She went down the street, deciding to walk the rest of the way. She had grown cold from the morning’s winter air and needed to warm up. Besides, it was only a fifteen minute walk to the bar. Gosalyn glanced over her shoulder as she went, feeling anxious that someone had noticed their conversation. Maybe Tony has good reason to believe that she would be followed. He might just be paranoid though, she had decided after a few minutes of not being approached by anyone.

She glanced down at her watch as she stepped off of the curb and into the street. It was 1:01, plenty of time to-There was the roaring of a motorcycle approaching and her head jerked up to see someone in a costume flying down the road in her direction. Gosalyn opened to bill to scream at him when he suddenly swerved to the right to avoid her. In an instant, his motorcycle flipped over, smashing across the ground once, flipped over again, bounced, and flipped over for a final time. It slid a few hundred yards down the street and she stood stiff as a board. Her heart pounded and she felt her bill go dry. She just caused an accident. She distantly realized a few animals were leaving their cars, completely bypassing her to run over to the duck that had flipped. 

She started to sprint over to the wreckage, face heating up from the anxiety she felt. She paused in front of the wreckage, seeing a pair of webbed feet, the rest blocked from her sight by the seat next to him. He was dead. He had to be dead. A dog was talking though. She leaned in over the duck as well now and frowned at his eye mask in confusion. Was he a vigilante? She could see the blood caking his bill and her heart pounded faster. He was alive, but obviously injured. What about the rest of him? The rest of body was spotless strangely enough. While his hat lay tattered a few feet away, obviously trashed, the rest of uniform didn’t have a single tear on it. “D-Dude, are you alright?! Is anything broken?! You’re freaking me the hell out with you just staring at me!” 

He groaned quietly at her. “I’m perfectly peachy...were you...were you standing in the middle of the road?”

Oh no. Oh no! She felt her cheeks flaming at the realization that he recognized her and the fact that she had been the cause for his injury. “Ummmmm...”

The dog was hovering over his face now, equally as worried as the young duck beside him had been. “Mister, how many fingers am I holding up?” 

“Three, I’m fine,” He pushed the hand out of his face and sat up with a muffled groan. She backed away a few steps to allow him to get his bearings. Her ears picked up the distant sound of wailing sirens. Someone had called emergency services. He glanced around, before sighing.“I don’t know who called the ambulance, but I really don’t need one.” 

“You literally just flipped your motorcycle over!” The dog protested with a doubtful look. The duck did and it was all her fault. She has injuried him. She needed to leave. This was bad, this was bad. She was backing away already, beginning to head towards an alleyway to sneak into. She was going to be in a heap of trouble if she was caught. He had seen her face though. He could easily identify later on. A flash of purple from his abandoned hat caught her eyes. This was her ticket to being golden she realized the moment she noticed it. It was perfect!  
*

It was not perfect.

In fact, it was an absolute dumpster fire. She thought acting like a cute little teenager that didn’t mean any harm would fix any tension. But, when she had got a good look at his face, she realized how poor of a plan this was. She actually hurt him pretty badly and was lucky the duck wasn’t dead. It got worse from there though. Some big lug that was obviously a close friend showed up, clearly worried for this “DW”. And when he cradled the other’s face in his hands, tender affection painted across his face, Gosalyn realized with a jolt that they were in love with one another.

She tried to play the whole situation off, tease him, make fun of him to show she hadn’t meant any harm. But, it turned out this vigilante was controlling, and kept threatening her to the point that she was worried she would get in trouble with the cops again. It was one of the reasons that hardly anyone approached her caseworker for fostering and adoption situations anymore. On one hand it was great she didn’t have to deal with that any longer, but on the other it just meant she was going to be stuck at the orphanage forever. And more importantly, she didn’t actually want a record on her hands before even being eighteen, the idea of going to a juvenile detention center terrifying her. She couldn’t allow this to happen!

Gosalyn fought back as hard as she could, which didn’t make a difference in the least. He was stronger than her physically and didn’t stand a chance. She was about to accept with a trembling frame that she was heading to the police station that day instead of investigating that lead for Bulba she received. Unbeknownst to the pair of adults, she was already trying to think of a plan to escape during the ride over. It would be difficult, but she was certain she could manage it. It wouldn’t be the first time she’s had to escape a sticky situation.

Before she could even finish that sentence in her head though, “LP” stopped his partner, and convinced him to release her. The young duck didn’t trust it in the least. She slowly backed away, yelling at them to leave her be. She didn’t mean some of what she said, but she needed to make sure they wouldn’t follow her as she headed to the shady side of town. Gosayln would have felt bad about the look on the face of the unknown vigilante, but she quickly thought about how much he threatened her earlier, and that wiped away all sympathy. She booked it the moment she could from them, glancing over her shoulder, and staring at rooftops for a number of blocks to make sure she wasn’t being followed.

Gosayln just needed to throw that entire situation out of her head, because she was never going to deal with those two ever again. She had more important things on her mind. Such as the the bar she approached, strangely swanky for the run down street it occupied. Of course anything owned by billionaire Scrooge McDuck was as swanky as they come. The animals that hung around places such as these though were a different class altogether. And she wasn’t certain she could behave in the matter they expected. She needed to get in though to talk to whoever this big shot was though, to find out how she can get her hands that monster that murdered her grandfather.

Unbeknownst to her, a monster of a different breed stalked her from behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As meintioned in the tags, this story is much darker than the Ducktales incarnation that’s rebooting the Darkwing Duck story. For those that have not enjoyed my Castaway story, while not necessary at the moment, reading it will give you further insight to the plot. This story directly runs parallel to that and I will at some point likely crossover the two in future chapters. 
> 
> Thank you for all the kudos and comments! I am beyond ecstatic to share another story in my Castaway universe and to already have so many people enjoying it. I’ll see you all next time and I hope you have a Happy Halloween in the meantime!


	3. Enter Sandman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for cursing and violent choking.
> 
> “Say your prayers, little one...”

When they had returned to the tower, Drake removed his cape, before hanging it in the closet. He studied his features with the mirror on the inside of the door. Exhausted eyes looked back at him, the purple under his eyes was as dark as his uniform. The bruising painted across his face was darker, nearly a blackened color, and he could feel a deep ache take hold. He noticed movement from behind in the reflection. His eyes met Launchpad’s, finding him looking worried. Drake prayed he wouldn’t ask him what he thought he was going to. He noticed one of his boyfriend’s hands was raised, a cup in his hand. “I brought you water.”

“Thank you,” He answered quietly, turning to the larger duck. Launchpad stepped forward, lowering his hand to present the cup. Drake took it and began to drink it greedily. He hasn’t realized how thristy he was until that moment. “Ah, um, I’m going to change. My uniform feels sticky from my sweat.”

Launchpad nodded at him. A hand reached out to take his own and he allowed it. The larger duck leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss. Drake felt his cheeks heat up. “I think we should talk when you’re done changing.”

He felt his heart drop, though he felt himself distantly nod in response. He pulled away from the tender grip and reached above his head to remove his uniform’s top by the shoulders. He stood there for a moment, waiting for Launchpad to leave. He chanced it to look up, seeing he had already left. He threw his uniform onto the floor in a heap, feeling tears burn his eyes. “God, I’m such an idiot.”

He should have just stayed in bed that morning. Even though he felt like he was suffocating, the shirt on his back wet with sweat. He grimaced at the memory and opened the dresser to pull out at one of Launchpad’s Darkwing Duck t-shirts. He crammed it back in with a grimace. The idea of staring at his fictional counterpart after what had happened that day was unbearable. Instead he removed a oversized green t-shirt belonging to Launchpad. Drake pulled it over his head, allowing to to fall down to his knees. His boyfriend really was a giant, because he was practically swimming in it. It made him feel cozy though.

Drake went to the bedroom door, hand hovering above it. He honestly didn’t want to go out and even hear what the pilot had to say. Launchpad was never cruel to him, but Drake couldn’t help but feel as though he disappointed him for suddenly leaving like that. He would have had a heart attack too if his boyfriend mysteriously left, and then found out he been in an accident. And though he was grateful to have such an understanding partner, it wouldn’t due not to communicate well with one another. It was understandable they needed a discussion. With a sigh, he swung open the door, and headed out to the kitchen. He saw Launchpad sitting at one of the chairs at the kitchen table, waiting patiently for him to arrive. The vigilante stood near the table, eyeing the medical supplies strewn across the table. The pilot padded the chair beside him. "Here, sit down, Drake."

The vigilante did so, leaning forward to reach for the antiseptic wipes. He was certain the small cuts scattered across his face needed to be cleaned. Launchpad's hand reached over top his, halting the action. "Please, let me do it."

He couldn't say no, but this was unusual. He typically dressed his own wounds, unless he was physically incapable of doing so. It made him feel even more so that something was wrong. He awaited his boyfriend to broach the topic however, too afraid to speak about it on his own. Launchpad pulled out a wipe, leaning forward to wipe at the cuts on Drake's face. He didn't make a noise as the cuts burned, though Launchpad found the need to soothe him with an array of soft noises. He knew by now that Drake had a high pain tolerance, so he had no idea why he bothered. He finished, before reaching out to cup his face in order to study it. He knew he looked an awful mess, but he couldn't help but ask. "Do I, uh, still have my charming good looks?"  
  
Launchpad smiled at him. "I don't know...you might have some permanent damage..."

"Nothing a few kisses can't fix." Drake answered, feeling much better to see that dazzling smile.

The smile dropped. "You know kisses can't fix everything, Drake...not even PTSD."

Drake looked down at the table, reaching for the ice pack to place on his face. Anything to avoid eye contact. The icy temperatures sent a jolt of pain through the nerves of his face for a moment, before his skin settled into the feeling. Though he couldn’t feel the bruises and cuts well in the first place, he knew he should get the swelling of his face to calm down. However, he couldn’t stay silent forever. “I...I know that, Launchpad. I can tell you’re worried, but I’m fine. Or as fine as I usually am on average.”

“Why haven’t you gone to your therapist then? I know it’s been a month now.”

He froze, unaware the pilot knew. “I, uh, I’m fine, Launchpad. It’s just I was doing better lately, so I shouldn’t need to go as much. Seriously though, everything is ok.”

“Can you look at me, please?” Drake couldn’t say no to the sweet voice and looked up at his worried boyfriend. “I just want to know you’re telling the truth. I don’t want to doubt you or anything, but you said I’m fine a lot when we started dating, when you really weren’t. And, you know last time that ended with you doing drugs, again.”

“I am fine!” He snapped back, feeling a warmth of anger in his stomach at the mention of the drugs. After Launchpad stared at him with a look of hurt, he deflated. He shouldn’t be hiding things from his boyfriend. “...the dreams are coming back.”

“I don’t want to be mean or anything, but you think it might be because you stopped seeing your therapist?”

“No...they just-“ Flames dancing behind his closed eyelids. “I had one last night about...about...about Jim and it really threw me off. It was really hot, so I just needed to get outside. I didn’t know some little girl was going to step out into the road without even looking though!”

Launchpad leaned his chair in closer, reaching out a hand to settle on Drake’s knee. “She seemed kinda distracted. I hope she’s alright...” “I’m sure she’s fine. Probably off terrorizing some other poor sap!” He found himself snipping back, feeling as though Launchpad was off topic. The pilot stared at him for a long moment, frowning. “...do you want to talk about your dream though? I know it helps me when I have an issue.”

“Not really, no.” He was sagging into the seat, crossing his wings over his chest. 

Launchpad slowly nodded at him, reached out to pry the wings away, and held tight to his hands. “It’s ok. Are you alright being alone? I have to go to Mr. McDee’s, and I don’t really want to get another phone call asking for help when I don’t where you are, or if you’re ok.”

Drake squeezed the hands back. He shouldn’t worry Launchpad, especially before he headed out to work. “I’m fine, I promise. I think I’m going to go lay down. I’m starting to feel sleepy again.”

Launchpad stood with a nod and began to head to the bedroom for his jacket. He paused for a moment and stared back at Drake with a smile. “No punching bag right now, ok?”

Drake groaned, knowing his actual plans had been dashed. Launchpad placed a hand on his hip, showing that he was serious. “Ok, ok...fine, I’ll actually go lay down and, oh, I don’t know, scroll through Duckbook.”

Launchpad grinned at the answer and retreated to the bedroom to get ready. The smaller duck felt his smile drop and scowled to himself. He didn’t want to break his promise, especially since it was to prevent further damage to face, but he had a swelling urge in his chest to hit something as hard as he could. While he wasn’t necessarily upset at that teenager earlier (though she had irked him to no end) he was mostly upset at himself for not paying enough attention. Not to mention his PTSD was acting up again lately, reminding him of memories he wished to forget. He had been seeing the psychologist, after he ended up staying awake for a week straight a few months back, and passed out in the middle of a fight Launchpad was helping him with. When the duck had woken up, he had a complete meltdown, which had been his breakthrough to get the help he needed. Things were going well (until a few days ago) so he didn’t see the need to go anymore. But, those nightmares were returning, and his bum hand was flaring with a pain he hadn’t felt in months. It was definitely warranted to let out some steam.

“Hey, I’m leaving now,” He didn’t realize that minutes had passed by then, but here was Launchpad, ready to leave. He bent over at the waist and Drake met him halfway for the kiss. He pulled away and stared intently at him. “Remember, no punching bag.”

Drake rolled his eyes. “I promise.”

“I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” He replied, as the larger duck took the stairs down to leave the tower. He stared off into the distance, hands clasped together, before his suddenly stood. He promised Launchpad no punching bag, but he never said he couldn’t practice his taekwondo. Even though his face was bruised to high hell, he couldn’t allow himself to get out of shape during his rest. Besides, he wouldn’t be allowed to do much the next week days, so he needed to do something to stay sane.

He headed down to homemade gym, heading by his computer. The beeping it released caught his attention and he stared at him for a long moment to determine what was being reported. Apparently there was a robbery in process, far from the police station, but close by to the tower. His hands clenched, knowing Launchpad would be disappointed if he went. He couldn’t allow the criminals to get away with what they wanted, but he also couldn’t go out. He leaned forward, slamming him hand against the clear button. He turned away from the computer, hands trembling. Of course he was ignoring it. He wasn’t anything like Darkwing Duck. He was just a fraud, passing himself off as the hero. He felt disgusted with himself. 

Drake found himself in his gym a few minutes later, kicking into the air with his left leg, huffing out a wet breath each time. He didn’t remember switching to boxing with the punching bag, but next thing he knew, his hands stung from the brutal beating he was giving the bag, and a swooping noise filled his ears. Black spots danced in his vision and his head pounded. He crouched down, burying his face into his lap. His eyes stung from the headache he was sporting. 

He couldn’t even commit to either doing his job or his promise! His bad hand spasmeded urgently and he curled it into a tight fist with a curse. “Fuck!”

Drake began to pound his fists against the gym mat as hard as he could with a yell of frustration. He went silent a moment later, flopping back onto his back. The back of his head bounced as he stared up at the ceiling. “What the hell am I even doing with my life?”  
*

The teenager arrived quickly to the bar, ignoring the closed sign in favor of knocking on the door firmly. She glanced over her shoulder, noting that the street was empty. There wasn’t a soul to be seen. She knew she was just feeling paranoid after what Tony had said, yet she couldn’t help but feel someone was actually following. A slot on the door clicked open, revealing a pair of eyes peeking out. She heard a grunt and a deep voice addressed her. “Get out of here, kid.”

Gosalyn glared. “I’m not a kid. Let me in.”

“Get the hell out of here, before I come out there and make you.” The yellow eyes glowered back into her own. 

“Tony sent me,” The slot immediately slammed shut and she frowned. “Well, that didn’t work.”

She was surprised when the door clanged open and a well dressed rhino towered over her. He stood to the side, indicating that she could enter with a swing of an arm. Gosalyn pushed down the nerves she felt and stepped inside. She looked around, being presented with a dimly lit bar, the morning sunlight barely filling the room before behind. The rank smell of cigarettes made her face scrunch up briefly, before resuming the neutral face she schooled. “He ain’t ever sent a kid before.”

“I’m not a kid,” She repeated, turning to him as he closed the door, blocking her only escape. “And I want to talk to Julius.”

“You? Talk to Mistah Julius? What for?”

“I have some questions for him about Taurus Bulba.” Gosalyn firmly told him, trying to make herself feel confident in what she asked for.

The rhino snorted. She felt a shock of fear roll up her spine and resisted the urge to cringe at the eye contact she made with him. She wasn’t one to cry when things got dangerous though. She was one to stare it bravely in the face, even when it growled at her. “Why the fuck are you asking about him?”

“I need to know where he is,” The rhino suddenly grabbed her by the shoulder and pushed her towards a hallway in the back of the room. Her heart pounded as he did so, voice coming out more meek then she intended. “Ummm, w-where are you bringing me?”

The rhino didn’t answer and Gosalyn felt genuinely frightened that she had made a mistake now. She had frozen up, allowing herself to be guided down a dimly lite hall, and found herself trembling. After what seemed to be a matter of hours, they paused at a door, which the rhino immediately swung open. She was shoved inside with no warning. The duck stumbled, catching herself by grabbing the doorway, as her eyes adjusted to the brightly lite room. 

Smoke hung heavily in the air and she coughed dryly with an inhale. Sitting, lounged onto a reclining chair sat an overweight cat, holding a thick cigar in between his plump lips. A gasp escaped her lips as she saw that his left eye was deformed, partyly sunken into his head, and a milky white color. She felt sick at the sight and had a hand covering his mouth.“What the hell is this?”

“She said Tony sent her, Mistah Julius.” The rhino answered obediently, blocking Gosalyn from the exit.

The cat raised an eyebrow. “Tony? Sent you? A little girl?”

Gosalyn was too frightened to answer and nodded meekly. “Well, what for? Kinda funny that he would send you to my part of town without reason.”

“I-“ Her voice squeaked and she cleared her throat while attempting to calm her nerves. Though her voice came out weakly, it was finally steady. She couldn’t show a single sign of weakness when asking about who she was. “He said you knew where I could find Taurus Bulba.”

The cat’s face went oddly blank as he processed the words, before he pounded his fist onto the table with no warning. The duck jolted at the noise, covering her mouth to muffle her cry. The cat’s voice was a low whisper as he flung his cigar in her direction. “Why the fuck you asking?”

She hopped back a step to avoid the cigar hitting her, gasping when her back collided with the rhino standing close behind now. “I-I need to...to...speak to him. I have...some information that he would want.”

The cat’s face morphed into a greedy expression and he chuckled darkly. He pointed his new cigar at her as the rhino pushed her forward, so that she was directly in front of him. “You’re that brat that Waddlemeyer had, aren’t you? The one we couldn’t find because SHUSH decided to intervene and hide you away.”

Gosayln nodded frantically. She wasn’t certain what SHUSH was or how they had anything to do with her ending up at the orphanage, but she didn’t want to reveal how little knowledge she had. All she actually knew was that Bulba had killed her grandfather, because he refused to work for the ox when he had demanded her grandpa would use the machine for his evil purposes. She had spent many nights peeking out of the door of her bedroom, watching their heated exchanges, attempting to back sense of the science they argued over.

“Bulba is going to love this,” at the words, it suddenly occurred to Gosalyn that the cat wasn’t as furious at Bulba as Tony made it out to be. The homeless dog had said Julius had hated the ox with every fiber of his being, but that tone implied the opposite. “Jones, take her.”

When a black bag was suddenly thrown over her head by the rhino, Gosalyn fought against him. She thrashed, trying to pull away, but a thick arm wrapped around her neck. The pressure was applied and she choked. Her hands scrambled weakly against what was cutting off her supply of air, feeling herself grow dizzy. Her leg kicked out behind her, hitting Jones at rin the groin. He let out a grunt and she was released immediately. She tore the bag from her head, eyes zeroing in on the exit. Gosalyn sprinted across the room, her legs immediately burning from how much intensity she put behind it. When Gosalyn passed the threshold of the doorway, she heard the sound of an arm swinging through the hair, and the resounding slam the rhino made when his fist collided with the wall. She yelped and pushed herself to run faster, barreling down the hallway with a speed she could never recall going at. She found herself in the front of the empty bar and spotted the exit. Her heart soared at the idea of escape. Her lungs stung as she went the last stretch, when suddenly a thick arm wrapped around her throat from behind with no warning. 

She screamed and the sound was cut off as the grip tightened. Gosalyn smacked at the arm as hard as could and swung her legs behind her fervently. Jones had learned his lesson the first time however and she only made contact with his rock hard shins. Tears welled in her eyes from the pain and she released a series of choking noises. The duck’s vision began to darken. With her last ounce of energy, she sunk her teeth as hard as could into the thick skin. The duck was rewarded with a howl of pain and was released. She fell to her hands and knees, gasping loudly. Then, she was off, blindly stumbling towards the door with black spots dancing in her vision. She threw open the door and didn’t look back as she bolted unsteadily down the street.

*

Gosalyn didn’t know how long she had sat beside the dumpster in the alley, but it had begun to snow heavily in the now dark city. She knew she should head back to the orphanage before it got too cold, but she couldn’t do anything except stare at the same grease stain on the wall across from her for god knows how long now. She didn’t know if anyone was searching for her, but she hoped it wasn’t anyone from that seedy bar. The shivering was more likely from the adrenaline running through her system long after the sun began it’s lowly descent, but she told herself it was only the snow. She sniffled and rubbed at her face. Wasn’t it early morning when she left the orphanage? How was it already dark? It felt as though that had been a lifetime ago. The duck’s face felt cold and she startled when she realized it was due to the tears rolling down her cheeks. Her hands rose to her throat, prodding at the tender skin. She flinched, knowing bruises must have painted a vivid scene. Her neck must have looked like that vigilante’s face earlier today.

She stood up, shoes skidding across the ice briefly, before they got traction necessary to stay still. Gosalyn peeked around the edge of the dumpster, the headlights of a truck passing by in the road briefly lighting up the alleyway. It was now silent, the citizens of St. Canard bundled up snuggly inside, protected from the chill settling over the city. She should be back in the overpacked room all the orphans shared, not fearing for her life next to a ripe dumpster. She hadn’t felt this scared since she lost her grandfather three years ago.

Gosalyn hesitantly exited the alley and went out on the sidewalk. The street lamp beside her flickered every few seconds, the glow brightening the snowbank nearby. She sniffled once more and began to head down the street. She glanced down at her watch and realized she had been hiding for over five hours. She hadn’t even noticed time had passed at all. Exactly like when she lost her grandfather. By the time she had fully registered what happened an entire day had passed and she couldn’t recall any of it. She stopped walking, realizing she didn’t even recall how she made it a dumpster at least a half an hour walk about from McDee’s.

The duck headed to the nearest bus stop, hoping she would catch the next ride in time. If she remembered correctly it was scheduled to leave in ten minutes and the night driver liked to leave early. It would be a shame if she couldn’t make it, otherwise she would have to walk at least the next-a limousine pulled up to the curbside and Gosalyn froze. That seemed to be the high end vehicle that would be stalking the streets in search of a teenager they almost caught. She immediately began to sprint down the road, forgetting entirely about the ice encrusted sidewalk. She only made it a few yards, until the soles of her shoes slid out of control across the slick ice, and she fell forward. Her hands slammed onto the ground and her knees banged against the bare sidewalk. 

“Gosalyn?” She flinched and looked up to see an outstretched hand. “You ok?”

The teenager flushed when she realized it was that large duck in the bomber jacket from earlier that day. She swatted away the hand and stood on her own. Her hands throbbed painfully. She brushed off a dusting of snow on her left leg. “I’m fine! What are you doing, stalking me?”

He was staring at her with wide eyes. Gosalyn felt uncomfortable by the gaze of an older duck and didn’t understand what was happening. He slowly reached out a hand towards her face. She stepped away with a grimace and he withdrew his hand. “What...what happened to your neck?”

Oh. That explained the weird behavior. She had completely forgotten about it for a minute there. She turned away with a shake of her head. “Nothing, nothing at all.”

“Gosalyn, I don’t think a big bruise on her neck is nothing. Did somebody do that to you?”

“I’m fine!” The teenager snapped, already stalking away in the other direction. The larger duck ran after her however, much to her dismay. “Leave me alone!”

“Gosalyn, wait, please! I think somebody should look at your neck! It looks like it hurts!” 

She whirled around, jabbing a finger in his direction. “Leave. Me. Alone! I don’t even know you! You’re just some guy I meant last night, after your lousy husband decided to harass me!”

Launchpad’s face turned bright red. “H-Husband? I-I mean, not yet-I mean we haven’t even discussed-“

That was what he toke away from the sentence? “Would you get out of here! I have a bus to catch that I’m-“

Gosalyn glanced down at her watch and saw that the bus had likely departed over eight minutes ago. “For the love of God! Now I have to walk all the way back! That was the last bus in the area!”

“Um, not to be creepy or stalkerish or really any of that, but if you need a ride home I can drop you off. I was on my way back to Dra-DW’s already and looks like you were walking the same direction, so it wouldn’t be any trouble at all for me.”

Gosalyn opened her bill to repeat herself, only to find herself snapping it shut at the idea of being caught on her walk back to the orphanage. That damaged fat cat, or even worse that humongous rhino, with the tough skin, and the meaty arms, and the crushing grip-she stopped thinking about the rest of the thought and nodded silently at him. Launchpad beamed at her. “Ok, awesome! Let’s go! It’s starting to get pretty cold out here and you look like you could use some heat.” 

Gosalyn followed him numbly, glancing over her shoulder every few seconds on the way. The larger duck opened the back door to the limousine and waved a hand with a bow. “After you, madam.”

She raised a wry eyebrow, while getting inside. She found herself relaxing a fraction knowing that she was confidently safer than before. Plus, the chill had immediately been blocked. She didn’t realize how cold she was until the heater blowing warm air across her face was felt. Launchpad allowed the door to slam shut and he headed to the driver’s seat. Once inside as well, he craned his head around to face her. “Medium setting good for the heat?”

He started up the vehicle and began to pull out into the street without looking. She shrugged in response, deciding not to comment at the possible recklessness of not checking for any incoming vehicles. “It’s your car, dude.” “It’s Mr. McDee’s, but roger that!”

Her brain short circuited. “Uhhh, as in Scrooge McDuck? The richest duck in Duckburg?”

He faced back towards the road. “Yep, the one, and only!”

“Jesus, did you steal his car? Are the cops looking for you right now?”

Launchpad laughed. “No, silly, I work for him. I’m kinda his bodyguard and sometimes-chauffeur. Also I’m kinda sorta his honory nephew.”

“You? The guy that hangs out with a creep in a cape, work for Scrooge McDuck?”

“Exactly, now you’re getting it!”

Gosalyn couldn’t even process the notion at this point in the night. She buried her face in her hands with a sigh of defeat. As if her day couldn’t get any more ridiculous. They pulled up to a stoplight and she raised her head. Her face glowed in the red light and she glanced out the window to see a homeless chicken wandering around. The chicken might not be the only animal out there tonight she thought with a jolt. She flicked the lock button switch and all the locks of the car sealed up. Gosalyn looked up and saw Launchpad staring at her in the rear view mirror. “What? What’re you staring at?”

“Is someone following you?” His face had gone series and it looked strange on his face.

“...can you just take me home? They’re probably wondering were I am by now.”

Launchpad twisted around in his seat. “I know you don’t hardly know me, but if someone is following you, I would really like to know. They’ve seen my limousine already and I’m afraid if I drop you off at home you might get hurt. Not to meintion they might follow me home, too.”

Gosalyn gulped at the idea of once again unintentionally injuring someone or getting caught again. But, dragging someone into a mess like this was the worse idea of them all. After all, it was only a matter of time before Taurus Bulba knew she was alive, and likely come after her. If that vigilante was as clumsy as he made himself out to be, he wouldn’t be much help. “I’m fine, just take me home.”

The larger duck sighed, obviously disappointed, as the car began to head through the intersection. “You’re a like him, you know.”

“What? Who’re you talking about?”

“DW. He always says he’s fine, even if he isn’t.”

Gosalyn’s hands clenched in her lap, but she didn’t comment. Launchpad didn’t question her further and she found herself staring out the window at the gentle snowfall. She tried not to think of sitting behind dumpsters, trembling violently. She tried not to think of running until her lungs burned. She tried not to think of thick arms strangling her until every last breath of oxygen had abandoned her. She tried not to think of gunshots and blood soaking the snow. “Drop me off here.”

The teenager’s voice sounded more harsh than intended, but Launchpad pulled to a stop next to a house with a nice white picket fence without comment. She was a few blocks from the orphanage and this seemed like a good place as any to be dropped off at. Though he had been kind, she was worried about showing a stranger her house. He turned around in his seat presenting a gentle smile to her. “You have a nice house. I hope you’re parents aren’t too upset, but I’m sure if you just say how you got lost, everything will be peachy.”

She hadn’t been lost. Gosalyn had wandering the street for enough years now to know exactly where she was. She didn’t voice this however. Instead, the teenager exited the vehicle, trying to keep that neutral expression plastered across her face. Launchpad waved at her with a grin through the closed window. She didn’t wave back and waited for him to leave. He continued to stare at her, as though waiting for her to go inside. She gulped and walked over to the gate in the fence. She eyed it, before spotting the lock, and lifting up to open. The teenager stepped inside the gates yard, hoping whoever lived in this house wouldn’t wake up, and come outside. When the sound of gravel crunching reached her ears as Launchpad pulled away, she turned around. She watched the larger duck head off into the night, with the snow beginning to pick up steadily enough that she had to pull her hoodie over her head. She waited until his headlights disappeared, before quickly heading down the street to the orphanage.

Gosalyn never made it back that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is definitely going to be slower for updates, since the main story in the universe will be getting more attention until it is finished. 
> 
> Thank you for your kudos and comments! They are highly appreciated and I’m glad to see that several readers are interested in reading more. I’ll see you next update!


End file.
